


Five Gold Rings

by ddagent



Category: Holby City
Genre: Christmas, Comedy of Errors, Engagement, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: Serena thinks Bernie isn't coming home for Christmas. Bernie has, in fact, come home with one goal in mind: to make Serena Campbell her wife.





	Five Gold Rings

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to Igerna, who helped me see that Edward is funnier than Robbie, and ktlsyrtis, who read over my work and helped quieten the anxiety voice. I love you both. 
> 
> This is part of the Twelve Days of Christmas Berena challenge. Thank you for having me, ladies, I'm so excited to be part of this! Happy reading everyone.

_Knock, knock._ Serena barely lifted her head at the two raps on her office door. They were soft, wary; as if afraid of disturbing the beast inside. The handle turned. A stocky Scotsman wedged his body in the slight gap between door and frame.  “Serena? Everything alright?” 

“ _Everything’s fine._ ”

Few would have entered her office considering the mood she was in. Even fewer would have remained standing with their head still sitting atop their shoulders. Thankfully for Raf Di Lucca, he was one of the few.  “If you’re sure…it’s _just…_ you’re always the first to get into the Christmas spirit, Serena. This isn’t like you.”

Serena rolled her eyes at her registrar; bristling at Raf’s familiarity. “Bah humbug.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Raf closed the door with a soft _snick,_ taking up position on the chair closest to Serena’s desk. “You don’t have to talk to me, that’s fine. But you should know that Morven’s comforting Doctor McKendrick in the ladies.”

At Raf’s admission, Serena began to thaw. _Poor girl._ Nicky McKendrick was not the first F1 Serena Campbell had made cry during her tenure at Holby City, and she probably wouldn’t be the last.  But, in this case, she hadn’t done anything _wrong._ Just helped Morven and Lou decorate the nurse’s station with baubles and tinsel and make AAU look like Christmas was actually coming rather than the ward Christmas forgot. Raf was right. She _loved_ Christmas. A few bars of Dean Martin, the slightest talk of snow on the weather, and she was getting out her festive jumper and baking mince pies with Jason.

But not this year.

“Bernie’s not coming home for Christmas.”

Raf nodded, as if he’d suspected as much. “I’m sorry, Serena.”  

“They’re short staffed at the camp. Things aren’t getting any better and they need a trauma surgeon. Helping refugees doesn’t end just because it’s Christmas.”

“Didn’t Bono say that?”

Serena snorted, smiling for the first time in days. It faded when she caught a glimpse of her phone’s lock screen; of the familiar blonde face she missed so _bloody_ much. “The awful thing is that I can’t even be angry at her. Not really. The woman I love is in an active war zone helping refugees. I can’t be angry that she’s not here to help me carve the damn turkey.”

She continued to stare at the picture of Bernie; a constant image of her love in trauma blue and a mop of unruly curls. Serena had suffered through long distance relationships before. Sex wasn’t an issue; Serena was more than capable with a vibrator and Bernie had a filthy mouth when she put her mind to it. But it was _everything_ else. Sharing a coffee and a pastry from Pulses, waking up in the same bed. Bernie’s laugh, her touch. It had been four months since the trauma unit had closed and Serena had suggested a new path for Bernie; something to stop her drifting aimlessly through the wards of Holby City.

That was the worst part. This was a nightmare of her own making.

“Still, it won’t be forever.” Serena patted Raf’s hand, a gesture that did not lift his look of concern. “Raf, I’m _fine._ Elinor’s coming tomorrow; Charlotte and Cameron are visiting the day after. You won’t find me on the twenty-seventh with a pickled liver and an empty box of Kleenex, I can assure you. I’m just finding today a little hard.”

“I understand. Anything we can do, just say the word. We can bin all the decorations if you’d like. Take out _Stop the Cavalry_ from Fletch’s Christmas mix.”

Serena shook her head. “Sweet of you, but I’ll be alright. I’ve been through worse than an absent girlfriend at Christmas.”

“I know.” Serena’s phone sprung to life, then, with a text notification. Raf glanced at her phone, no doubt hoping for a message from Bernie. But it wasn’t her. His look of concern only grew. “Edward? Why is Edward messaging you?” 

“We’re going for a drink tonight.” Raf opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Serena got there first. “I know, _I know._ But we’re actually on good terms for the first time in years. Everything with Ellie this year has made him grow up a bit.” 

“I guess. But a drink with Edward…”

Serena snorted. “Ellie, too, Raf. She’s coming as well. It’ll be fine. _I’ll_ be fine. Honestly, after all these years, I think I know how to handle Edward Campbell.”

Raf’s look of concern refused to shift. Warranted, no doubt, but unnecessary. After a vicious divorce, a bitter reunion, and years of backbiting, she and Edward were finally in a good place. Elinor’s addiction had been an awful start to 2017 but it had brought them closer together. Phone calls, joint visits, even a family dinner once or twice after Ellie left the centre. _Yes,_ Edward had become more flirtatious in his most recent texts and phone calls. His third divorce had left him lonely and she was always his first port of call. But she was clearly with Bernie. She _loved_ Bernie. And with her girlfriend over three thousand miles away (and not always the best at communicating), it was nice to feel a little wanted.

\--

“I can’t believe you’re asking Serena to marry you.”

Bernie beamed, gazing at the small black box sitting between them. “I know. I can’t believe it either.”

Fletch reached for the box, lifting the lid. He whistled. The ring was a silver band, tarnished in places, with a small diamond seated in the centre. It had once belonged to Helena Duncan, Bernie’s maternal grandmother. Bernie had never worn it herself, despite Marcus’ constant suggestions that she do so. It hadn’t seemed right; hadn’t been meant for her somehow. Only after meeting Serena, and falling madly in love, had Bernie realised that her grandmother’s ring was meant for _her_.

“Serena’s going to _love_ this,” Fletch said, his cheeky grin even wider than usual. “So what made you decide to propose?”  

“Recent events.” The merger. Frederick. The possibility of what could have been. What she could have lost. “I realised that, more than anything, I want to be with her. I want her to be my _wife,_ Fletch.”

Fletch’s smile could power Holby for a month. “I’m so thrilled for you both, I really am. How’re you going to do it?”  

Bernie had thought long and hard over how she would propose to Serena. Had considered the airport when she came home; had debated showing up on AAU and getting down on one knee in front of the nurse’s station. But, after talking to Jason about all of Serena’s plans for Christmas, an idea had formed.

“Serena thinks I’m not coming home for Christmas. She’s got no idea I’m back in the country. So the plan is to sneak into the house before her shift finishes, put the ring under the tree, and wait until they open presents tomorrow morning. Jason is very particular; I won’t have to wait long.”

“My my, Bernie Wolfe…I had no idea you was this romantic.”

Her cheeks flushed. “She brings it out in me, Fletch. I just want to make her happy.”   

Bernie would do anything to make Serena happy. That was what the ring symbolised: a promise that she would be _here,_ that she would be _hers._ The ring, of course, was only the first part of her gift to Serena. The second was currently stepping off the lift.

“There’s Hanssen.” He was the reason Bernie was risking visiting the hospital on Christmas Eve. “I’ll be right back, Fletch. And remember, Mum’s the word.”

She left Fletch studying the ring; winding her way through tables and chairs to meet Hanssen. She was as incognito as she possibly could be: baseball cap pulled low over her eyes; thick coat to ward off the Midlands chill. If Serena appeared looking for a coffee and a pastry, she would not recognise her. As much as Bernie wanted to see Serena, she didn’t want to ruin the surprise. So Bernie kept her head low and met Henrik finishing a conversation with a member of neurosurgery.

“Ms Wolfe,” Henrik greeted; his eyes wearier than Bernie remembered. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Henrik. How are you?”

He faltered, lips thinning. “Well enough, considering the circumstances. And yourself?”

“Well enough.”

She and Henrik had never had the easiest of working relationships. They had butted heads at both the start and the end of her tenure at Holby. Perhaps her second go around would be much easier. She knew the rules, now; knew how to play the game. Henrik, for his part, actually wanted a battlefield surgeon in his deck of cards.

“Shall we take this conversation up to my office?”

Bernie nodded. The last time she had been in Henrik’s office, she had handed in her notice. Now, she was signing paperwork to return. After a difficult few months, she would finally be back on her ward with her friends, her family. With _Serena._

\-- 

After their chat, Serena the Grinch had thawed into Serena the Overworked Surgeon. Between an appendectomy and a punctured liver, she took Nicky aside and apologised; offering the F1 a hug she gladly welcomed. The Christmas decorations remained up, despite the pain it seemed to cause Serena every time the bells jingled or a string of tinsel got loose. _Stop the Cavalry_ played until Donna changed it to _Baby its Cold Outside._ Despite Raf’s reservations, Serena appeared to be managing okay. She was tough; had survived a lot. She could survive a few more months’ long distance. Like she’d said, an absent girlfriend was nothing compared to her mother’s dementia or her daughter’s addiction.

As if on cue, said daughter waltzed onto AAU.

“Afternoon, Raf!” Elinor kissed him on the cheek, lip gloss leaving a mark. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you.” Across the ward, Morven caught sight of Elinor and ducked behind a curtain. It was too late for Raf. “Surprised to see you here. Visiting your Mum?”

A cursory nod; a quick glance at her mother’s office before burying herself in her phone. “Yeah, just for a bit. My friend Lexie’s had her appendix out so I’m visiting her for a while. Cheer her up before Christmas, you know? She’s been so lovely to me this year, thought I’d return the favour.”

The details of Elinor Campbell’s drug addiction were well known, although not something you brought up in front of her mother. Finding her daughter high on cocaine after running over her own cousin had not been the best start to 2017. The subsequent police investigation, bender, and rehab stints had only added pressure to the head of AAU. Serena had lost weight, lost focus. It had taken both Bernie and Ric to persuade Serena to share the load. Not that Elinor appreciated their efforts. Even now, after everything, Elinor still treated her mother’s girlfriend with disdain.

Her lack of respect for Bernie – and her general attitude around Jason and Charlie – were one of the reasons why the team on AAU ducked for cover whenever she turned up.

Her constant texting was another. Raf stood, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, as Elinor ignored him in favour of her phone. “Sorry Raf. New Year’s plans. _Don’t worry,_ I’ll be completely sober. _Completely boring,_ but I made a promise. What about you? Any exciting plans?”

“Looking after the kids. Should be a good night, though. Although poor Theo gets scared at the sound of fireworks.”

“Mmm. Yeah, I’m not looking forward to New Year. But Christmas should be _amazing._ ”

“Yeah?” Raf couldn’t quite believe that. Not when her own mother’s Christmas plans had placed under a dark cloud. “You getting something nice?” 

Elinor grinned. “Only what _every_ divorced child wants for Christmas.”

“Two lots of presents?”

“No! _My parents back together._ ” 

 _Oh this is bad. This is really, really bad._ Raf tried to appear nonchalant as he pressed Elinor for more information. “Serena and your Dad? What about Bernie?”

“Pfft. What about her? She’s in the Middle East, making Mum _miserable_ because she’s not bothering to come home for Christmas. My Dad on the other hand, is right here _.”_ Elinor paused to send another text. “Honestly, the whole thing with Bernie was nothing more than some ridiculous Sapphic midlife crisis. Now she’s got it out of her system, we can be a family again.”

“Elinor…”

She frowned, waving a hand in his direction. “No offence to you, though. I know you and Fletch are… _you know._ Which is fine for _you._ But it’s not right for my Mum? Listen, I’ve got to go; need to say hi before I visit Lexie. Was great to see you Raf; Merry Christmas!”

Just like that, Hurricane Elinor blew out of the nurse’s station and headed for Serena’s office. Raf stood, dumbfounded, trying to process it all. There was no way Serena and Edward would get back together. There was too much water under that bridge. But with Serena under a cloud, and with a few glasses of Shiraz, he didn’t want his friend doing something she would regret.

Taking out his own phone, he texted Fletch.

\--

_Code Red. Hurricane Elinor on AAU. Need to talk ASAP. Where are you?_

A shiver ran down Fletch’s spine; he was suddenly grateful for being caught up with a patient diverted from the ED. He replied to Raf, telling him to meet him outside in the peace garden. They could talk out there without anyone overhearing. Raf would no doubt have questions about why he’d taken so long to get a quick caffeine fix. Thankfully his answer of _I just ran into our old boss looking to propose to her girlfriend_ was a good one.

It didn’t take long for Raf to arrive, wrapped up tight in his Holby hoodie and a blue scarf Charlie had knitted for him. Considering tomorrow was Christmas, he didn’t look best pleased.

“Everything alright, mate? Problem with Beelzebub?”

Raf shook his head, shivering partly due to the cold and partly due to Elinor Campbell’s influence. “You don’t know the half of it. Elinor is under the impression that Serena and Edward are getting back together. Ridiculous, I know, but with Bernie MIA I’m worried Edward might get further with Serena than he usually would.”

For once, a problem with Elinor Campbell was easily solved. “It’s alright, Raf, Bernie’s back”

“She’s back?”

“Yup. And she’s come back to surprise Serena on Christmas morning with an engagement ring!”

The tension in Raf’s frame fell immediately. The smile Fletch loved so much actually made an appearance. “Oh that’s fantastic, Fletch, that’s _brilliant!”_

“I know, right?”

“I just feel sorry for poor Serena. She’s not looking forward to Christmas at all. I know it’s more romantic to propose tomorrow, but I think Serena needs some good news _today._ ”

Raf was right. Christmas was usually Serena’s favourite time of year, yet she hadn’t even tried to make him wear a Christmas jumper yet. Mistletoe had been banned for _weeks_. Whilst Bernie wanted a perfect proposal, Serena needed her girlfriend more. He fired off a quick message to the Major, hoping she’d finished her meeting with Hanssen. Soon the three of them were reunited in the peace garden, Raf and Bernie embracing for the first time in four months. They quickly got Bernie up to speed on Serena, Edward, and Elinor.

“I mean, I don’t think Edward is anything to worry about, but you’re right that it’s selfish to keep putting Serena through this.” Bernie nodded; resolute. “Alright. I’ll surprise her now. Maybe I could propose in the theatre where we first kissed?”

Raf raised an eyebrow. “Have you always been this romantic?”

Fletch shrugged. “Apparently Serena brings it out in her. But it sounds like an excellent plan, boss. Let’s go!”

Bernie beamed. “I’m ready! I just need the ring, Fletch.”  

Bernie looked at him like he had her engagement ring. When, in reality, she had taken the ring when she’d gone up for her meeting with Hanssen. She continued to stare at him. Of course she did. In reality, she had left him looking at the ring. Fletch patted his pockets, smiling nervously at the Major. It was here somewhere. It had to be. _Shit_. In reality, when the patient from the ED had started vomiting blood, he’d left it behind.

“I don’t have it.”

“ _What_?”

“I left it in Pulses, I’m sure it’s still there. Don’t worry Major, we’ll find it. Raf, I need you to keep Serena on AAU whilst we check, alright? Bernie, it’s all good, we’ll find it.”  

Raf nodded, jogging back to the hospital to keep Serena out the way. Bernie just stared; unblinking, not saying a word. _They would find the ring._ Bernie would propose; Elinor would get over herself. Everyone on AAU would have a magical Christmas and they would have an amazing 2018. They just needed to make a pit stop to Pulses and hope that someone hadn’t got there first. Otherwise Raf would end up being a single father to four kids.

Because if they didn’t find that ring, Bernie was going to kill him.

\-- 

Serena would _kill_ for a glass of Shiraz.   

An appendectomy, a punctured liver, a driver with severe abdominal bleeding. Elinor’s cheerful façade as she greeted her mother between texts. Her own empty notification screen; Bernie unable to pick up a phone between surgeries in the field. Although work had kept her busy for most of Christmas Eve, Serena felt herself sinking back into that sullen mood; eyes glancing more than once to the Australian vintage buried in her bottom desk drawer.

Instead, Serena picked up her phone and scrolled through Bernie’s message feed. A couple of photos of her in scrubs, so different from AAU blue. Some naughty suggestions sent at three am Sudan time. The message telling Serena she wouldn’t be home for Christmas. No Bernie badly singing along to the music channels; incorrectly guessing who sung _Mistletoe and Wine._ No arguing with Serena over who was more qualified to carve the turkey. No curling up with her on the sofa and watching _Doctor Who_ with Jason. No falling asleep together with mulled wine and cigar smoke on their lips.

Eyes prickling with tears, Serena flexed her hand around the drawer handle. She flinched when someone knocked on the door. Wiping her eyes, she said, “Come in!”

 _Bernie._ Blonde curls, bright eyes. A smile just for her. But the woman in the doorway was younger than Bernie, an inch shorter too. _Charlie._ Serena tried to hide her disappointment. “Charlotte, this is a surprise!”

“I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

“No, not at all. It’s always lovely to see you.”

Serena got up from behind her desk and crossed the room to pull Charlotte into a hug. Bernie’s family were not big huggers; Bernie all elbows and Cameron uncertain of where to put his hands. Charlotte, however, always held onto Serena as tight as she could. Today Serena clung back. Although close before, Bernie’s departure had only strengthened their bond. Charlotte often popped in for a coffee to discuss NHS administration, or share with the department her latest crochet attempt. Everyone loved Charlotte, Serena especially. Even if she reminded Serena of how much she missed her mother.

Hug finished, Charlotte pushed a large gift bag stuffed with presents between them. “I know I’m seeing you Boxing Day, but I wanted to give these to you for tomorrow.”

“Oh Charlotte, how lovely.” Serena smiled down at the colourful parcels; unfortunately Charlotte had inherited her mother’s wrapping ability. “Is it still alright, you and Cameron coming over?”

“Of course! We’re so excited to see you and Jason.” Charlotte paused, toying with a blonde curl beside her ear. _So like her mother._  “Will Elinor be joining us?”

“Unfortunately no; she’s spending the day with her father.”

Relief washed over Charlotte’s face. No love lost there. “Such a shame. Guess we’ll see her in the New Year, then. Hopefully Mum’ll be back.”

“I hope so too. I know you miss her. But the work she’s doing is-“

“- _I know_.”

There had always been a connection between them. Both interested in business, both interested in wine. Now both overwhelmed with pride, disappointment. Whilst Serena felt those things for the first time, Charlotte was almost used to it. So many Christmases without Bernie; so many years spent unable to be angry that her mother was spending the holidays in Afghanistan rather than home with them.  Serena hated Bernie a little in that moment, for choosing her work over her family yet again. _Don’t be that person, Serena. You’ve worked Christmas shifts before and left Elinor in exactly the same position._

Wearing a smile she did not feel, Serena reached out and squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder. “We’ll still have a lovely Christmas, just you wait.”

“I know. Thank you, Serena.” Bony fingers dug into the blades of her shoulders, blonde hair tickling her nose, as Serena was hugged by a Wolfe cub. Serena stroked her hair. In a small voice, Charlotte said, “I’m really glad Mum met you.”

“Me too.”

They said their goodbyes, another round of _Merry Christmas_ , before Charlotte slipped back onto the ward. With the door ajar, Serena could hear the AAU team say hello; wish Christmas greetings to the daughter of their absent co-lead; thank her for the scarfs and hats she’d crocheted for them. Although it might not feel like it, Charlotte had a huge family around her. But that didn’t mean much at Christmas time. _Oh Bernie, why aren’t you here?_

\-- 

_Of course Mum’s spending another Christmas away. I wouldn’t worry about her, love. You’ll have a wonderful Christmas with me and Karen. Promise._

Charlie looked at the text from her father, shoving her phone into her coat pocket without replying. It was Christmas Eve. She didn’t have the time or energy to deal with her father’s bitter commentary. He’d probably spend all of tomorrow reminding them of every Christmas Mum hadn’t been there, of every present he’d bought and wrapped in her stead. They’d been divorced for over a year now; remarried and moved on. But Dad was still bitter and Mum was still working over Christmas.

Things hadn’t changed _that_ much.

Her phone vibrated. A message from Cam wanting her to pick up more wrapping paper. Rolling her eyes, Charlie decided to get a coffee first. Maybe a pastry. Something warm and sweet to shake off the chill she felt. There were quite a few people in the entrance to Pulses, but none in the actual queue. Moving closer, Charlie saw them watching Fletch and someone else crawling across the linoleum floor.  

“It was here, Major, I _promise._ ”

“Well it’s not here now, Fletch, is it!”

The voice sounded familiar. But Charlie knew her mind was playing tricks on her. Like it had as a child when she’d heard voices on the landing and had _sworn_ it was her mother home for Christmas. But Mum was in the Sudan right now. Not under a coffee table in Pulses. Suddenly Fletch’s companion banged their head, letting out a string of curses. They got to their feet, brushing their skinny jeans clear of dirt and dust. “ _Mum_?”

Dark eyes, a complete replica of her own, met hers. “ _Charlotte_.”

There was no bear hug, no hair stroking, like there had been with Serena. Instead, her mother adjusted the scarf around her neck, the toggles of her hat. Her fingertips appreciated the crochet work, her smile blinding as she stared at her. “Hello Charlie.”

“Mum. You’re _here._ ” She fiddled with the buttons of her mother’s coat, feeling grit underneath her fingertips. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re… _you’re here to surprise Serena._ ”

Charlie couldn’t count how many times she’d pleaded, _prayed_ for her mother to just turn up. Army boots on the doormat, duffel bag on the carpet. Christmas mornings, birthday breakfasts, violin recitals. She’d never turned up to any of them. But this Christmas her mother would get on a seven hour flight to surprise her girlfriend. _She’s a volunteer now. The rules are different than the army._ But no reassurance would stop the tears welling in the corner of her eyes.

“I’m not just here for Serena, Charlotte. I’m here for you and Cam, too.” Charlie scoffed. “ _I mean it_. I’ve missed you all so much. I can’t spend another moment away from you all.”

“But after Christmas you’ll just go back.” She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm. “You _always_ go back.”

“Not this time. I’m home for good.” Her mother tugged open her bag, pulled out a few sheets of paper. She shoved them into her hands. “See? _Contract of employment._ I’m not going anywhere, Charlotte. I’m permanently employed at Holby. I’m registered with a doctor, dentist and an optician.” She paused. “I’m asking Serena to marry me.” 

“You are?” She nodded. Charlie felt warm for the first time all day. “Oh _Mum_.”

After slipping her contract back inside her bag, her mother tentatively opened her arms for a hug. Serena was right. She _was_ all elbows. But Charlotte didn’t mind. Her mother was warm and soft and all the sourness sitting in the bottom of her stomach evaporated. _She was home. She was really home._ And it wasn’t just her mother Charlie was getting for Christmas. It was a stepmother, and a step cousin, and… _an evil stepsister._ But even the prospect of Elinor couldn’t ruin this moment.

Pulling away, her mother adjusted her hat once more. “Are we alright, Charlotte?”

“Yes. I think we are.” They shared a smile. “Can I see the ring?”

“You _could,_ if _someone…”_ Her mother glared at Fletch, still crawling across the floor. “…hadn’t lost it. We thought it was here, but clearly not. We’ll have to try the bins next, see if someone threw it out accidentally.”

Behind them, Fletch groaned. Her mother, despite having lost her engagement ring, smiled and pulled her in for another hug. Even after six, eight, twelve month tours, her mother had never been so tactile. Maybe things _had_ changed. Her father would still make barbs across the dinner table. But her mother had come nearly four thousand miles to surprise them all with an engagement ring and an employment contract. Charlie was starting to think that Christmas wasn’t a lost cause after all.

\-- 

Christmas in Chez Campbell was going to be _sick._

Just her, Mum, Dad, and Cousin Jason. No blonde trauma surgeon who sang carols worse than Dad; who couldn’t tell the difference between Cliff Richard and Chris Martin. No army brats sitting round the table; no awkward conversation over turkey and brussel sprouts. It would just be the four of them watching Doctor Who and it would just be Dad and Mum retiring upstairs after a bottle or two. No cigar smoke, no whiskey. No _Bernie._

Stepping off the lift onto the ground floor, Elinor Campbell couldn’t help but smile.

A smile that quickly dimmed when she bumped into a blonde wearing a cheap coat, nearly knocking her and her cup of coffee to the floor. Her smile completely evaporated when Elinor realised she’d bumped into Charlotte Dunn. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“No harm done.” Charlotte adjusted the lid on her Styrofoam cup. “I was just visiting your Mum, actually. So sorry we won’t get to see you over Christmas. But we’ll see you in the New Year, yeah?”

“Oh _absolutely._ ”  

Her cheeks ached as she smiled; gritting her teeth and trying to act as if she actually _liked_ Charlotte. Miniature Bernie Wolfe with high cheekbones, blonde hair, and a tendency to steal her mother’s focus, Elinor hadn’t cared for Charlotte since last Christmas when she’d spent most of the day talking to her mother about NHS funding and small business start-ups. _Thank fuck we won’t be spending_ this _Christmas together. We’ll be at Mum’s for Boxing Day too and you and your low budget Disney prince brother will have to find somewhere else to go. Merry f-ing Christmas, soldier._

“Well…it was lovely to see you!”

“You too!”

The second her back was turned, Elinor relaxed her face; massaging her cheeks to encourage blood flow after smiling so hard. At least she wouldn’t have to fake those smiles this Christmas. All her family under one roof. They hadn’t had a Christmas together since the divorce. A few years ago they were supposed to spend Christmas in the Cotswolds, but Dad lost his job. This Christmas would erase all those bad memories. She wouldn’t even need to get high to feel buzzed this festive season. As much as she had liked Liberty, Elinor was thrilled her father had finally come to his senses.  

“So, that’s Bernie’s youngest, eh?”

“Dad!”

The plan was to meet at Albie’s for a few drinks on Christmas Eve before they parted ways for the holidays. But clearly her Dad was too excited at the prospect of getting back together with Mum. Elinor wrapped her arms around his waist; squeezing her eyes shut as he left a kiss atop her head. That was another thing she couldn’t stand about Bernie and her spawn. They didn’t hug. Who didn’t hug?

After a moment they parted; both turning to stare at the back of Bernie’s mini me. “Yeah, that’s Charlotte Dunn. She’s _awful._ Always sucking up to Mum. I told you she’s trying to get Charlotte a position here so she can learn about NHS admin or something, right?”

“Yeah, you did. But it doesn’t really matter now, sweetheart. Bernie and her kids will be out of the picture soon enough. I’ve got a little something for your Mum for Christmas. Do you want to see?”

Elinor nodded. Her father slid a hand inside his sports jacket and retrieved a small, blue box. He popped open the lid, revealing a gold engagement ring with a whopping great diamond. It was nothing like the first engagement ring he’d given her mother. This was private practice money.

“A few years ago, when we nearly got back together, your mother told me all she wanted for Christmas was something sparkly in twenty-four carat gold. So that’s what I’ve got her.” He closed the box, keeping it safe inside his jacket. “Do you think she’ll say yes?”

“Of course she will!” Elinor felt butterflies circle her stomach; her excitement almost overwhelming. “I mean, why wouldn’t she? It’s not like Bernie’s here with an engagement ring of her own, is it?”

\-- 

“Fletch, if we don’t find that ring-“

“-I know, Major, you’ll have me ‘ung, drawn and quartered.”

Bernie tossed another black sack from the industrial bins at the back of the hospital. She looked at Fletch, a smear of grime across his cheek. “I always preferred a firing squad myself.”

Finishing their search of the first bin – still no ring – they quickly moved onto the second. At least they wouldn’t have to sift through any medical waste. Bernie smelt bad enough as it was. An hour transfer to the airport, a seven hour flight, and now an investigation through rubbish bins didn’t exactly give Bernie the romantic look she was hoping for. When they found the ring, she’d have to clean up before she proposed. She couldn’t ask Serena to marry her smelling like this.

Although it would make her return from Kiev a damn sight better. 

“I think we’re out of luck here, Bernie,” Fletch admitted, slumping in front of an open rubbish bag full of napkins and half eaten pastries. “Maybe someone picked it up?”

Bernie shook her head, hands sifting through the rubbish for something small, cold to the touch. “No, _no,_ it _has_ to be here.”

“I’ve still got some of Artie’s dosh. I can buy us a new one.”

“Keep your money, Fletch.” She would not take money out of the mouths of his children just for an engagement ring she could buy herself. Not that any money in the world could replace the one she had lost. “It was my grandmother’s ring. Been in my family for six generations. Her marriage lasted sixty years.” 

“Well no offence to you and Serena, but I don’t expect your marriage to last sixty years.”  Bernie tossed a rubbish bag at him. “Alright, _alright,_ I get it; the ring has sentimental value. But I don’t see why it has to be _that_ ring.”

“It just does.”

“What I mean is…Bernie; we’ve known you nearly two years now. You’re not very romantic. You’re there when it counts, and Serena loves that. But you’re not a flowers, box of chocolates, whirlwind trip sort of girl. So…what gives? Why does this have to be perfect?”

Bernie paused in her search, lifting her gaze to meet Fletch’s. “Because everything about our relationship is _im_ perfect _._ Our first Christmas, Elinor found out her mother was bisexual. Valentine’s Day was spent in a rehab clinic.” She swallowed, feeling a familiar swirl of shame circle her stomach. “I left her, Fletch. Not once, but twice. The first was so bloody selfish and this time…I wanted something to be perfect. A story we could tell. A moment we could look back on.”

“Oh Bernie…” Fletch offered her a sympathetic smile across the strewn garbage. “It’s lovely that you want to do that for Serena. But there’s nothing wrong with imperfect. Look at me and Raf: years spent in the same house and it’s only after he started knocking boots with Nurse Harrison that I realised I liked him. We didn’t even get a proposal. Just decided to elope. Imperfect makes stories, Bernie. You think I don’t tell all the F1s about how Jason locked you both in your office?”

She laughed, remembering that day clearly. She’d found the signs Jason and Fletch had made later on; had laughed with Serena over them at Albie’s. Even told that story to her children last Christmas. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Fletch grinned. “I’m a regular Nurse Cupid, me.”

Bernie rolled her eyes. “Let’s finish checking these bags and then we’ll head down to AAU. Ring or no ring, I’m proposing to Serena today.”

Three more bags, no ring. They stowed them back in the industrial containers; Bernie taking an awkward sniff at her jacket. Fletch’s scrubs looked like they’d been thrown up on. Both would need a shower before they could return to AAU. Just as they were heading back inside, two porters came out. One of them, to Bernie’s delight, was Jason.

“Major Bernie,” Jason greeted, the pair exchanging salutes. He smiled at Fletch. “Budgie. What are you doing out here? I thought you were staying at the Premier Inn on Charleston Road before the proposal tomorrow.”

Fletch cocked an eyebrow. “Jason knows? I thought you didn’t tell any of the kids.”

“I wanted to ask Jason’s blessing.” He’d been thrilled at the prospect of a proposal, and had helped Bernie adjust the Christmas Day schedule to allow for an extra person. She had considered asking Elinor too but didn’t want to run the risk of her ruining the surprise, or saying no. “Unfortunately, Jason, I’m having to change the plan. I’m proposing to Serena today.”

He nodded. “Understandable. Auntie Serena has been rather grumpy the last few days.  Elinor, on the other hand, seems unusually happy at the prospect of spending Christmas in our house.”

“Yeah, she thinks Serena and her Dad are getting back together,” Fletch explained.  

Jason paused. “Elinor _might_ think it’s a possibility. He _has_ been talking to Auntie Serena more often. He’s visited once or twice too. I don’t care for him. He thought the idea of a female Doctor Who _ridiculous._ I much prefer Bernie.”

Bernie preferred that too. Not that she could realistically see Edward moving back in. Serena wasn’t stupid. Despite his actions this past year, he had still cheated and threatened Serena’s career. And she loved Bernie. “I’ll be home soon, Jason, I promise. I just need to propose. Unfortunately, we lost the ring.”

“Perhaps Mister Hanssen has it? He picked up a small box earlier in Pulses; asked all the porters to keep an ear out in case someone lost something important.” Jason grinned. “So who lost it? Budgie?” 

“He did, but he feels really bad about it.” Bernie squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Jason!”

Leaving Jason and his colleague behind, Major and Budgie headed back inside the hospital. Hanssen was meeting with the board all afternoon, and neither relished bursting in on that meeting. Even if it was for a good cause. Not a problem. They could wait. Bernie could use the time to shower, find a change of clothes.

Imperfect did not have to mean smelly.

\-- 

Three pungent drunkards, two trauma cases, and a strangely enthusiastic daughter had rendered Serena Campbell _utterly_ exhausted and in need of a glass or three. As much as she had long hated the idea of spending any time with her ex-husband, Serena was grateful at the prospect of a Christmas Eve tipple at Albie’s. It certainly beat going home to a quiet house and an empty notification screen.

Coat on, furry hat atop her head, Serena met Edward and Elinor in the frosty carpark. Elinor wrapped an arm around her waist; Edward offered a kiss to her cheek. “Good shift?”

“Happy to be done for Christmas.” Serena checked her phone once more, pretending to scan for emails when in reality she was hoping Bernie would have found a spare five minutes to say _happy Christmas_. No joy. “I’m in need of a very large drink and, luckily for me, you’re buying.”

“As promised. Come on; let’s get this Christmas party started.”

The three of them crossed the car park; grit and frost crunching under Serena’s shoes. Christmas music spilled from the open doors as smokers rushed outside for a cheeky fag. Inside Albie’s, doctors pranced with gin and tonics and cider bottles whilst wearing cracker hats and pink cheeks. There was mistletoe above the doorway. Serena noticed it before Edward did, but after Elinor. _Come on Mum_. _It’s tradition!_ Serena tried to ignore how good it felt to be kissed, even by Edward Campbell.

A kiss under the mistletoe, a glass of wine at Albie’s…it made her miss Bernie all the more.

They took a table in the back; Elinor and her bags taking one sofa whilst she and Edward squashed onto another. Her daughter was drinking lemonade with a splash of vodka (she thought Serena hadn’t noticed) and Edward, much to her surprise, was drinking orange juice. They all clinked glasses in the middle of the table, the first civilised Campbell Christmas in over twenty years.

“Well, I’d just like to say how wonderful it is to be sitting here with my two favourite people.” Serena felt the urge to roll her eyes, but knew Ellie would hate it. So she smiled, patted his knee, and took a sip of wine. “We’ve had a tough year. Ellie’s been ill, I’ve got divorced, your relationship with Bernie isn’t in great shape.”

Ellie interrupted any possible protests. “Oh come _on_ , Mum, she’s not even coming home for Christmas. Can’t love you that much.”

“ _Elinor._ ”

Ellie glanced at Edward. Uncharacteristically, he took Serena’s side. “Elinor, that was rude. I don’t know Bernie that well, but I know she’s off doing great work. Helping people in a war zone…it’s more than I’ve ever done. I like to be with my creature comforts. My friends, my family. I couldn’t imagine giving them all up at Christmas. Nothing would keep me from being with the people I love.”

Serena took another gulp of her wine. Suddenly Christmas Eve drinks with Elinor and Edward had turned into a _Bash Bernie_ session. Rambling about all the things Bernie would miss at Christmas, Edward rested a hand atop her thigh. On a normal day, she’d threaten to break his fingers. But Serena was touch starved. _Why aren’t you Bernie?_ “Anyway, how about we forget Bernie Wolfe? Focus on _our_ family Christmas.”

A much better topic of conversation. Serena listened to Boxing Day plans; traditions at Edward’s mother’s home and what news from his side of the family. As she drained her first glass of wine, Edward caught her staring. He took her free hand; pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. He was becoming too familiar, now. Whilst Serena never tired of being wanted, she’d prefer it at a distance. _A big distance._

“Edward…”

“Serena. This year has been an unsettling one for our family. But it’s brought us closer together. I’d like it to end with us closer still.” He slipped a hand into his jacket and pulled out a blue box. _Oh god._ “Serena Campbell, would you please do me the honour of becoming Missus Edward Campbell for a second time?”

\-- 

“Serena Campbell, I love you. Will you marry me?”

Fletch swooned theatrically beside her in the lift, brushing aside imaginary locks that neither he nor Serena possessed. “Oh Bernie, this is all so _sudden._ Of course I’ll marry you!”

Bernie elbowed him in the ribs. “This is serious! I want the words to be perfect at least. I’m not exactly great with them.”

“I know. I’ve read your paperwork.”

Another elbow landed, this time in his kidneys. For all the elbowing, Bernie was actually grateful she’d chosen Fletch to confide in that day. Of all the people she could have bumped into, there was no one else with the connections or the love of romance that could have helped her. Of course, someone else might not have lost her grandmother’s ring. But few others would have dug through two industrial bins looking for it, or tackled her out of sight as Serena crossed the ground floor on her way to meet Elinor and Edward for drinks. Only Fletch would have made her see that an imperfect proposal was right after all.

Bernie nudged him this time, cheeks pink, as she said, “Thank you, Fletch. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me today.”

“Always happy to help. I just want you and Serena to be as happy as me and Raf. And you will! All we got to do now is get your ring, head down to Albie’s, and you can propose in front of all our friends.”

“Here’s hoping she doesn’t say no!”

The lift dinged. _Hanssen’s office._ They got out together, making their way down the corridor. It had been a hellish journey but they were finally at the last stage of their quest. Together they knocked on Hanssen’s door.

“Come in.” Hanssen was behind his desk, looking over personnel files. “Ah, Ms Wolfe, Nurse Fletcher…is there some matter on AAU?”

Bernie shook her head, damp curls clinging to the back of her neck. “Actually, we’re here on a personal matter. Jason told us you picked up a ring box in Albie’s earlier today?”

“Ah yes. A beautiful ring. German design, if I’m not too mistaken. A family heirloom, perhaps?”

“Yes, it is. Do you still have it? It’s mine, you see. I’m proposing to Ms Campbell.”

Fletch would later say that this was the first time he’d seen Hanssen smile in weeks. Henrik opened his top drawer and pulled out the simple black box Bernie had been searching for all afternoon. He stood up; walked the few paces to Bernie’s side. He placed the box in her hand, curling her fingertips around it.  

“When I picked up this ring, I did not know who it belonged to. All I knew was that it possessed the potential for incredible happiness. Happiness which is in short supply at this moment in time.” He let go of Bernie’s hand; smile thin but eyes bright. “I wish you and Ms Campbell immeasurable luck in your life together, Ms Wolfe.”

Behind them, Fletch ducked away, muttering about something in his eye. Bernie offered a simple nod. “Thank you, Henrik. For this, and for sending me down to AAU in the first place. You brought us together. _Thank you._ ”

Henrik’s throat bobbed. “Merry Christmas, Ms Wolfe. Nurse Fletcher.”

Ring in hand, they left Henrik in his office and went to call the lift. They’d finally found the ring! All that was left was for Bernie to propose. As she went over her speech, Fletch checked his phone.

“Oh you’ve got to be _kiddin’_ me!”

Bernie didn’t like the sound of that. “Fletch, what’s happened?”

He spat out a curse. “Edward’s only gone down on one knee!” He fired off a quick text. “I’ve told Raf to stall him. We need to get down there as soon as.”

“She won’t say yes, Fletch!”

“No, but how is your proposal going to go down after Edward’s come out with a romantic speech, in front of their daughter no less?” Fletch pushed the button for the lift three times in quick succession before grabbing Bernie’s sleeve and dragging her to the stairwell. “That’s not imperfect, that’s a train wreck!”

Bernie considered going down on one knee after Edward had done it first, better, bigger. She joined Fletch in barging through doors, only hoping that Raf could ruin his perfect proposal in time.

\-- 

_Stall him! We’ve got the ring!_

Raf looked up from his phone to watch the nightmare unfolding in front of him.  Edward was still making his marital pitch, ring box in hand, while Serena sat, stunned. The noise of Albie’s died away until it was just Edward’s romantic speech and the sound of Slade playing over the speakers. The diamond ring sparkled across the ceiling; brighter than even the shiniest Christmas star. Whispers rippled through the crowd, especially those who remembered Edward from his days at Holby. Ric, Morven and Donna joined Raf by the bar.   

“Doesn’t he realise Serena’s with Ms Wolfe?” Morven asked.

“He doesn’t care. Bernie’s away; Serena’s fair game to him,” Raf hissed. “Crazy thing is, Bernie’s come home to propose. She’s been with Fletch all afternoon trying to find her engagement ring.”

“Edward’s proposal will ruin anything Bernie does.” Ric nudged his shoulder. “Do something, Mister Di Lucca. _Anything_ to make that man shut up.”

Raf nodded, stumbling forward; trying to find a way to make Edward Campbell stop talking. He kept saying how they were a _family,_ how they _belonged together._ Elinor looked like all her Christmases had come at once. Any chance of Elinor approving of Bernie’s proposal was practically nil at this point. Even turning up on Christmas morning wouldn’t be good enough. Raf had no idea how to make this better for Bernie. With no ideas in mind, he found himself falling to one knee, slipping his wedding band off, and holding it out in front of Serena like an offering.

Serena was suddenly jolted back into reality. “Raf, what the _hell_ are you doing?”

“Proposing.” A good idea as any. “Serena, we have _always_ had a connection. You were there for me after Amy; I was there for you during everything with Adrienne. We could be really happy together!”

Serena stared, eyes wide. “Raf, this is very sweet of you, but you’re married. To my ward manager.”

“Then I’ll get a divorce. Choose me, marry me. _I love you._ ”

“No!”

Rejection was not unexpected, but it still hurt. Serena continued to stare at him, eyebrows raised, as if he was in need of a psych evaluation. Edward had turned bright red; knuckles white as he clutched the ring box. He took a deep breath, shaking his head at Raf, before returning to Serena; ready to continue his romantic proposal. _Not quite so romantic when anyone can say those things_ , _is it?_ Raf, unfortunately, wasn’t a serious contender.  

But Ric was.

Grabbing the ring pull off Morven’s can of coke, Ric stormed over and got down on one knee. “Perhaps not the most romantic of rings, but a romantic gesture nevertheless. I know gaudy diamonds are not your style, Serena.”

Edward bristled. “Now, hang on, Ric-“

“-No, Edward. I will not be silenced.” Ric reached across the table for Serena’s hand. “Serena, ever since we met you have driven me _completely_ mad. The chemistry between us has always been palpable. Your mother, god rest her, was always pushing us together. When you’d told me you’d fallen for Bernie, I was beyond jealous. _I need you_ , Serena. Please, be my wife.”

“Ric-“

“-We could be happy, Serena. Truly happy. I mean, the _sex_ alone....” He raised an eyebrow; a fine blush forming across Serena’s cheeks. “And Jason likes me. Not many of your suitors can say _that._ ”

Edward couldn’t recover from all that, surely! But, after Serena let down her second suitor, Edward began his proposal for a third time.

Enter Morven.

“Ms Campbell! Ms Campbell!” Morven scrambled to their table, a basket of onion rings in her hand. She offered one in lieu of a wedding band or ring pull. _Certainly not gaudy._ “Ms Campbell, I am _nuts_ for you. Will you marry me?”

Edward huffed, jabbing a finger in Morven’s face. “Listen, _you,_ I don’t know what you’re up to, but-“

“Edward!” Serena slapped his hand away. He deflated under her glare, which immediately softened in Morven’s direction. “This is very sweet of you, Morven, but I don’t think it would be appropriate as your mentor.”

Morven bobbed her head. “I understand. Thank you for the consideration.”

Dom, brought up to speed by Donna, stepped forward to have his own go at proposing to Ms Campbell. But Edward had had enough. He turned his back on the crowd, shoving the diamond ring under Serena’s nose.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, Serena. I really don’t care. I just want us to be together. What do you say, Serena?”

\-- 

“Have you decided what you’re going to say yet?” Fletch yelled over his shoulder as he and the Major threw themselves down another flight of stairs.

She shook her head, blonde curls tumbling, as they pushed onto the ground floor. “Not yet! I think it might just have to be ‘marry me’ at this point _._ ”

“Was good enough for me and Raf…make a hole, people, we got a proposal to get to!”

They rushed across the ground floor, nearly knocking over Naylor in the process. Both called out a stream of apologies; Jac merely rolling her eyes. They legged it across the car park; the winter chill setting in. Light snow fall caught in Bernie’s hair, tickled the back of his neck. Bernie skidded on a patch of ungritted tarmac, nearly ending up back in Holby as a patient. But Fletch grabbed her arm just in time.

His phone vibrated as they caught sight of the pub. Fletch pulled it out, seeing a text from Raf. _She said_ -

\-- 

“No!”

Serena got to her feet, looming over Edward; fixing him with a glare she had mistakenly thought she would never have to use with him again. But, as usual, he had proven her wrong. Give him an inch, he’d take the rest. House, car, heart. _Not this time._

“What on _earth_ would make you think it would be a good idea to propose? What _sign_ could I have given to suggest that I would have said _yes_ to such a ridiculous proposition?”

Edward flinched. “You’ve been flirting with me.”

“ _I flirt with everyone_!” Serena rubbed the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. Once again, she’d been made to look a fool in front of all her friends, her colleagues. Once again she was the bad guy in front of her daughter. “I’m not even available to propose to!”

Elinor, who Serena was quickly starting to suspect was the ringleader of this whole affair, piped up. “But Bernie’s in the Sudan.”

Serena turned her glare on her daughter. “Maybe when you’ve grown up, Elinor, you will realise that just because someone is out of the country doesn’t mean you are _not_ together. I love Bernie, with all my heart. I know you don’t like her, I know you _hate_ that I love her more than I ever loved your father. But I _do_. And I know things are difficult between us right now. But we’ll be alright. Because it doesn’t matter what you, or your father or _anyone here_ thinks about us or the state of our relationship. We will keep trying as long as there is a _chance_ of a happy ending for us."

Elinor shrivelled in her seat; jaw clenched and eyes burning. Serena felt awash with pity. But it quickly faded. After everything they had been through this year, neither Elinor nor Edward had really changed. Clean, sober, yes. But as selfish and as narcissistic as ever.

With Edward and Elinor dealt with, Serena turned to her other three problems of the evening. Raf, Ric, and Morven stood sheepishly by the bar, trying to act as if they hadn’t proposed to her in a room full of people.

“You three. Here. _Now_.”

Raf and Morven moved on command, no doubt fearing what she would make them do after the Christmas break. Ric, her equal, only moved out of fear of _death_. She certainly felt like killing all three of them. Even if their proposals had made Edward’s less heart-breaking and more ridiculous.

“I don’t know _why_ you three decided to propose to me this evening. I will probably never know. But, in case you feel like trying your luck again – _or if anyone else in this pub wants to ask for my hand in marriage_ – know this. _I don’t want to get married again._ You could plan the most extravagant proposal, have the most _gorgeous_ ring, and I would still say _no._ Are we clear?”

The three of them murmured their agreement. Serena considered the matter dealt with. But, rather than spring back into the life, Albie’s remained deathly quiet. Several of their colleagues were staring at the front entrance. Serena pushed Raf aside, curious as to what held their attention over this madness.

She gasped. _Bernie._ In the flesh. Right in front of her. Holding an engagement ring.

\-- 

Serena didn’t want to get married again. Of all the possible scenarios she’d envisioned, Bernie had never considered this one.

Everyone in Albie’s was watching them. Serena, _beautiful Serena,_ standing open mouthed in the back. Bernie, snow melting in her hair, clasping her grandmother’s ring. She’d wanted to do this outside; maybe kneel in the falling snow. But Fletch had pushed her through the doors just in time to hear Serena say _I don’t want to get married again._ Not if Bernie proposed in the snow. Not if Bernie proposed on Christmas morning. Not now, not ever.

“Bernie.”

Serena stumbled across Albie’s; their colleagues parting to let her through. Bernie watched her procession; marvelling at seeing Serena, _really seeing her_ , for the first time in four months. She looked beautiful _._ Silver tinted hair; gold earrings Bernie had bought for her last Christmas. She drank in dark eyes, full lips. Bernie had been running on memories and photographs for so long that she almost didn’t seem real. But she was. Her voice was real. Her touch was real. Bernie’s name whispered like a prayer and two worn hands holding hers. It was all real.  

“Bernie.” _She’d missed her so much._ “Bernie, is this an engagement ring?”

She swallowed, her joy at seeing Serena giving way to disappointment, even fear. “Yes.”

“Then _yes_.”

“I’m sorry?”

Serena’s face blossomed into a familiar smile. The one she’d worn after their second kiss, after Bernie’s first return. She’d smiled like that when Bernie had moved in and her house became _their_ house _._ Serena stared at her with so much love; her eyes bright and shining. This was not the face of someone angry at her for proposing. This was the face of her future wife.

Fletch elbowed her in the ribs, hissing, “Get down on one knee, quickly!”

Serena snorted, hand tightening around her pendant as Bernie did get down on one knee. The floor of Albie’s was sticky; her joints aching from all those stairs. But it was worth it for the look on Serena’s face as she took her hand and held out her grandmother’s ring.

“Serena Campbell, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Of course, _yes_!”

Bernie faltered, Serena’s own words ringing in her ears. “Are you sure?”

Serena rolled her eyes. “You, _as always_ , are the bloody exception. Of course I’ll marry you!”

Together they slipped the ring onto Serena’s finger; Serena grabbing at Bernie’s shoulders to bring her up and in for a kiss. She felt the band of her grandmother’s ring press against the length of her neck. Serena’s lips were eager, firm against Bernie’s mouth. She tasted of Shiraz; a taste Bernie had desperately missed in her absence. She wrapped her arms around her fiancée, pulling her in close. Albie’s descended into cheers and claps. Bernie heard little of it, saw little of it. Her world view had shrunk to nothing more than Serena Campbell.

Serena touched her face after they parted; fingertips dancing over lips, cheeks. “You’re really here.”

“I am. And I’m going to be here for a long time to come.” She leant forward, lips brushing the shell of Serena’s ear. “Still interested in a co-lead on AAU?”

Serena’s eyes crinkled; the corners damp. “I only got you a jacket for Christmas!”

Bernie laughed, holding Serena close. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” She would spend the rest of her days as Serena Campbell’s _wife._ What more could she need? “Merry Christmas, Serena.”

“Merry Christmas, Bernie.”

They shared another kiss; eyes closed, lips soft. Edward quietly slipped away, shaking his head at the two of them kissing underneath the mistletoe. Cam and Charlie soon arrived with a bottle of champagne and five glasses; an orange juice for Jason who turned up covered in snow. Elinor eventually joined them; smile forced but still raising a glass to her mother’s happiness. With the rest of AAU also toasting their engagement, they celebrated with those they loved most.

Months later, Bernie caught Fletch telling two F1s the story of how Serena Campbell had been proposed to five times in one night. He later told the story at their wedding. It might not have been the proposal Bernie had envisioned; the perfect romantic proposal Serena deserved. But it was a story they could tell; a moment they could look back on.

Five imperfect rings, four flights of stairs, three loyal friends, two industrial bins, and one single word. _Yes._


End file.
